


All Monster's Have A Home

by DuschaPendragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beating, Child Abuse, Drowning, Gen, Poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuschaPendragon/pseuds/DuschaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay's mother has always told him of his right's. She is determined for him to gain what is his, no matter what the cost. He is not a bastard to her. But his half sister, Daella Snow, came to be through a man who tricked their mother into believing he cared for her. Daella, although nothing more than a child, is of no worth to their mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

“I’m going to belt you within an inch of your life you little bitch!” Her mother screamed behind her. Daella began to run, her feet pounding on the hard dirt road sending waves of pain and shock up her legs. “I’ll punish you for this bastard! I will belt you until you scream for mercy!” Her mother screamed again, the words echoed around her head.  
“No mother please! I haven’t done anything wrong! I swear I’ll be a good girl, I swear.” Daella cried, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps.  
“Don’t look back Daella, run! Find a tree, you can climb it, you can escape!” Her brother promised, though Ramsay was nowhere to be seen. Daella began to run towards the nearest tree but the closer she got, the further away it seemed. In fact for a moment, the trees seemed to sprout legs and run from her. “No please! Come back!” Daella cried.  
“Even they don’t want you, bastard!” Ramsay’s voice whispered in her ear.  
“I’ll belt you ‘til you bleed bastard!” Her mother screeched again. The trees parted in front of her to reveal the rushing current of the Weeping Water. “No, I don’t want to go there! I don’t like the water!” Daella wept. She tried to slow but found that she couldn’t. “It’s your only way out, she’ll get you if you don’t cross!” Ramsay threatened. Daella ran straight into the water. Its icy current began to swallow her feet and lower legs, but as she stepped ever deeper into its depths, the water began to freeze over, trapping her once it reached up to her chest. Beneath the icy surface, the water continued to flow. Daella looked about frantically but the shoreline had turned to white, the shingle was covered by a thick blanket of snow. “You ruin everything in your path, Snow.” Her mother’s voice bounced across the icy surface of the river and Daella turned to face her. Her mother was silhouetted across the dark grey sky. Her silhouette made her look graceful, long limbed and willowy in figure. But as the light focused in on her features, Daella was horrified. Her eyes were so sunken that her eyeballs just seemed to be suspended in the sockets of her skull. Her nose was pinched and sharp and she breathed in deeply, swallowing the scent of the girls fear. Her cheeks were so thin and sunken that it made her face seem like more of a skull, with a thin layer of skin stretched taught over it. The monster-mother began to slink and slide across the ice towards her terrified daughter. “Mother I don’t know what I’ve done…please…please don’t hurt me!” She begged, but her small voice seemed to be nothing but a squeak. Her mother smiled, revealing a set of sharp, yellow teeth. “You wreak havoc wherever you tread, Snow. I rue the day you tore yourself from my womb to come into this world. I’ll count myself well rid of you. From this day forth, it’ll be just me and my son, Ramsay Bolton. There will be no Snow.” And with her words, the ice began to melt. Daella’s mother sank down into the river with an unearthly grace. She smiled her hideous smile before thrusting her daughter below the surface, allowing the icy depths to engulf her. Daella opened her mouth to scream, but no sound would come out. The water flowed in and filled her. She began to thrash uncontrollably, to try and escape her mother’s iron grip. When Daella looked up towards the water’s surface, her mother’s face was no longer monstrous, but her cruel smile was.

Daella sat up screaming.

“Daella! What on earth is the matter girl? Daella!” Her brother sat up beside her. Ramsay grasped her shoulders tightly and shook her violently, but the child only continued to fight his grip. Her eyes were open but unseeing and she clawed at him to try and release herself. Ramsay slapped her sharply and the screams ceased. The small girl breathed heavily, her face was pale with fear and shock and her smallclothes were soaked through with sweat. She stared at Ramsay fearfully. He cupped her face, not ungently, in his hands. “Did you have the dream again?” He asked her. Daella nodded. “It was just the same. You said that not even the trees wanted me.” The young girl said simply.  
“Why would I say that?” He asked incredulously.  
“Because the trees were running away from me.” She muttered.  
“Trees can’t run little sister.” Ramsay said with a little laugh. Daella gave a small smile too, until she heard the creak of a footstep on the first step. The small girl leapt into Ramsay’s arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, and she buried her face into his neck. “Second…third…fourth…” She whispered as she heard the steps creak as their mother ascended. “…fifth…sixth…seventh.” The counting stopped. “She’s here.” Daella muttered. She began to tremble. “Ramsay, what is going on?” Their mother inquired, her eyes narrowing.  
“Daella had another nightmare.” Ramsay informed obediently. Their mother’s face softened ever so slightly and she moved forward. “My poor baby.” She muttered. Ramsay felt the skinny arms tighten around his neck. “Go to her. It will only be worse for you if you don’t.” Ramsay whispered, low enough so that only Daella heard. Reluctantly, she let go and turned to face her mother. Daella half feared to find her face half-sunken, but was relieved to find it was normal. “Come here my girl.” Her mother commanded softly. Daella didn’t move. She found she couldn’t; her knees began to tremble as her mother’s look darkened. Tired of waiting, her mother gripped her tightly around the waist and drew her onto her lap. Daella tried not to release a whimper. Her mother began to rock her back and forth. The motion reminded Daella of the icy current that had gripped her only moments ago. “Now tell me girl, what are these nightmares about? You seem to have them often.” Her mother tried to say the words softly, but Daella could sense the impatience. Daella looked over to Ramsay for an answer. She knew that if she told her mother the true content of her dreams she would be tied to the beam and beaten again. Her mother observed Daella staring at her brother. “Come on, you can tell your dear old mother.” She coaxed.  
“Wolves!” Daella blurted. She continued to stare at Ramsay who dropped his head with disappointment. Daella had said the wrong word and she knew it. “Are you lying to me?” Their mother asked through gritted teeth. Daella hung her head and began to groan with fear. For a moment, she thought she might get out unscathed. “You pretty little simpleton!” Their mother growled. Before Daella could move out of the way, her mother boxed her around the ear. The force of the blow sent the small girl crashing to the wooden floor. “You think you can lie to me do you?” Her mother screeched. Daella cowered, whimpering and crying as her mother raised her foot, ready to kick out at the cowering child. “Shall we return to our bed’s now mother? I must get up early tomorrow if I am to catch fish from the river.” Ramsay asked the question coolly, reclining back on the bed. The anger began to fade from their mother’s eyes. Slowly, she lowered her foot. Daella continued to cower in a ball on the floor, letting out the odd groan of distress; but her mother was deaf to her now. “Yes, of course my son. You must go early tomorrow or someone might beat you to the best catch and the future Lord Bolton deserves the best.” His mother smiled brightly down at him, ambition shining in her eyes. She planted a fond kiss on the top of his head, allowing her lips to linger in his hair. “Goodnight my son.” She breathed before moving back towards the stairs. Ramsay watched his sister huddle against the wood of the floorboards. “One more thing my son, when you go fishing tomorrow, take that little fool with you.” His mother commanded, indicating to the child on the floor. “The sight of her sickens me.” She spat, before retreating down the stairs. Ramsay allowed Daella to remain on the floor while she counted. “Seventh…sixth…fifth…fourth…third…second…first…” Once Daella had finished counting, he lifted her by the arms and put her back onto the bed. She lay still, staring up at the thatched roof. Ramsay tucked the thin woollen blankets around her. Before he moved to lay down in his spot beside her, she clutched his arm with sudden strength. “Please brother…please don’t take me to the water tomorrow.” She begged, her eyes filled with fear.  
“Would you rather remain here with mother?” He asked gruffly. She shook her head slowly. “Why must you be so simple?” He sighed, clambering into bed beside his sister.   
“I don’t mean to be, a try to be better brother, honestly, I do try.” She promised, her voice getting higher and higher in her distress.  
“Well, try harder. I’m tired of having to save you all the time. One day, you know, I won’t be here to protect you.” He growled, turning his back to her.     
“No, because you’re going to live in a castle and become a Lord.” She recited the words from memory.  
“Yes.” Ramsay replied. The thought of becoming a Lord put him to sleep in a better mood.


	2. Hunting and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Daella both make new friends and Daella learn to recognize a game.

She scanned the forest floor beneath her and spotted him a little way ahead. Taking a deep breath, Daella began to run, headlong and sure-footed, along a thick branch. She leapt. She stretched out her arms and soon felt the rough bark of another branch. She swung around lightly and clambered up before continuing to run along beside her brother, but with a great number of feet between them. “Can’t you walk along the ground like any other normal child?” Ramsay growled irritably as he stomped through the undergrowth.   
“I have to know how to climb.” His sister yelled down to him.  
“You know how to bloody climb, and you know how to bloody fall as well.” He barked. That was true enough. The last time Daella had fallen, it had been at the worst possible moment. She had followed her brother when he had gone on one of his hunting trips. He had forbidden her from joining him, saying that she had to take that time to practise what women did. He would sit her down in the barn with broken clothing to sew back together. It always took her so long to finish that by the time she was done, Ramsay had returned. But her curiosity had grown stronger than her wish to please her brother, so she had followed him; climbing and leaping from tree to tree. He had been easy to follow. A woman’s screams had guided her in his direction. Eventually Ramsay and the woman had stopped running. Daella had watched him chase her through the forest, occasionally shooting an arrow if she had slowed. The woman had been cowering from him as Daella had crouched in the trees and watched. She had been quite high up and she could not hear what her brother had said but he had eventually stopped talking and clambered on top of the woman. Daella, having lost concentration, had fallen from her perch and crashed to the ground a few yards away from where her brother was raping his prey. Ramsay had been furious. Daella had been knocked unconscious from the fall but she had woken up still lying on the forest floor. Ramsay was even angrier by then; his prey had escaped when he’d gone to check that his sister still breathed. He had chased the wench further into the forest but his heart was no longer in it. Daella only managed to remember the events of that day because it had been the day she had lost her first tooth. In fact, the impact of Ramsay’s fist meant that Daella lost most of her milk teeth that day. She had never followed him hunting again.  
As the rushing current of the Weeping Water came within earshot, Daella began to descend from the trees; eventually landing just behind Ramsay. She stopped as she caught sight of the water. _“It’s your only way out. She’ll get you if you don’t cross!”_ Ramsay’s voice echoed in her head, though he had said no words. Daella looked back over her shoulder. The woods were silent, empty. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Yet still Daella could not bring herself to move. Ramsay stopped and turned once his hunter’s instinct warned him of the silence behind him. His sister stood, shaking slightly. “Come on, there’s no one here.” Ramsay growled. Daella did nothing, just stared at him as though he was speaking Valyrian. Ramsay sighed heavily and walked back to his sister. He kneeled down on one knee in front of her. “Mother is all the way back at the mill and the trees aren’t running, see?” Ramsay indicated to the sturdy trees around them. Daella looked about wordlessly. Ramsay’s patience ran thin. He grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her forward. “Come on little simpleton.” He growled. Daella did as she was bid, not even whimpering as Ramsay’s pale fingers bit into her scrawny arm.

She sat beneath the trees, not daring to go any closer to the water. Daella hugged her knees and swayed backward and forth, singing ‘My Featherbed’, though it was out of tune and the lyrics were wrong. Ramsay ignored her. He had waded into the river far enough so that the waves lapped at his waist. He had discarded his tunic and boots but had remained in his breeches. He stood, unmoving, in the water; his spear poised and ready in his right arm. He hated fishing, it took too long and required too much patience. But there came a certain pleasure in fooling the fish; how they would dare to swim stupidly close, unaware of the sharp spear that awaited them above the water. They thought they were safe beneath the waves. Ramsay enjoyed proving them wrong. So far, he had fooled three; they hung from the top of his spear. Ramsay grinned every time he caught one of them watching him with a cry for mercy in their eyes.   
He caught sight of another one, their scales gleamed like some golden treasure. Ramsay licked his lips and readied his spear. “Three…two…one…” Ramsay dropped the spear when he heard a scream ring out behind him. “Shit.” He muttered as the glimmering fish shivered away from him. Ramsay looked back across the water. Daella had been the one that had screamed. She was collapsed on the stones, shaking in one of her panic fits. Her whimpers carried across the water. She screamed again when another sound was heard. Ramsay looked into the forest to spy a figure moving towards them. He growled; was someone going to try and hurt his sister? Hurriedly grabbing the spear before it floated off down river, Ramsay dived into the icy water, he skimmed the bottom, kicking up the dirt below so that it would hide his approach and give him the element of surprise. He heard Daella scream again, though it sounded far away from him beneath the surface. He sprung up and ran through the shallow part. The figure was crouched over his sister, but as he got closer, he noticed they were doing her no harm. In fact, it was a woman who was with her. As Ramsay walked closer, he could hear her trying to calm Daella, who continued to shake and cry out. The woman looked up, startled and worried. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle her! I was just walking through the woods and I must have made quite a bit of noise and then I heard her scream!” The woman explained. Ramsay smiled and sat down beside Daella, drawing her into his lap. “Hush now, it’s alright little sister. It was just this lady here see?” Ramsay said softly. Daella opened her eyes and looked up at him, confused at his soft tone. She looked over at the woman who smiled brightly at her. She was pretty with long red hair and deep blue eyes, Daella observed. She turned her head back to look up at her brother who was smiling back down at her. He had his hunting look in his eyes. That made Daella smile. It was an unusual smile, one that Ramsay had not seen before. It was almost wicked. She hid it from view of the pretty woman before beginning to cry softly into Ramsay’s chest. Ramsay felt no tears wet his skin. He smiled when he realised that his little sister was helping him in his game. “I’m sorry about her. She fell from a tree when she was younger and it left her simple. She has those panic fits when she gets scared.” Ramsay said as he cradled his sister. He did not look at the woman, but instead feigned concern over Daella, who continued to whimper convincingly. “Poor child! At least she has you to look after her.” Ramsay looked up when he heard the flirtation in her voice.   
“Yes, it’s just me and her.” Ramsay lied.  
“Oh? You have no mother or father?” She asked. _“She’s not bright this one.”_ Thought Ramsay. “No, I look after her by myself.” He said, turning his attention back to his sister to hide his smile.  
“But, who looks after you?” The woman leant forward and touched his arm. She wore no smallclothes, Ramsay observed. _“She might be stupid, but the bitch knows how to get a man’s attention. I wonder if she is as good at running as she is at flirting.”_ Ramsay wondered. “Do you come from around here madam?” He ventured.  
“No, my mother sent me away to live with aunt.” She replied. _“Perfect.”_ Thought Ramsay. “Why did she send you away?” Ramsay asked, already knowing the answer. The woman looked at Daella, wondering how to say her crimes with young ears about. “I…shall we say…brought shame upon my family?” She smiled at him seductively. Ramsay smiled back. “I’m Ramsay.” He said cheerfully. There was no need for them to exchange second names. “Jeyne, although, most people call me Red Jeyne, because of my hair.” She replied, running her fingers through the wavy red locks.  
“A beautiful name, for a beautiful woman.” Ramsay bit back laughter. This was just too easy, and far too much fun. The chase itself would be a challenge. He did not have his bow and arrow, nor his dog. But he did have his spear. Jeyne’s skin would look nice amongst the fish that begged. “Little sister, why don’t you run home and get on with your…sewing.” Ramsay smiled down at his sister, his ghost grey eyes spoke a thousand words. To his surprise, Daella seemed to understand. Keeping her back to Jeyne, she smiled her newly found smile and wondered off. Ramsay watched her go. Once his little sister was out of sight, he turned back to the red head that still knelt before him. “Do you like to hunt Jeyne?” Ramsay raised spear and smiled a shark-like smile as Jeyne’s eyes grew wide with sudden fear.

Daella left the screams far behind, leaping gracefully from tree to tree. She did not go home to sew. She had some time by herself, without fearing her mother would tread on her shadow. Daella ran alongside the Weeping Water, imagining she was teasing it. “You can’t get me see! I’m high up in a tree!” She sang, over and over until her voice grew hoarse.   
She paused after a time, tired from leaping and running and shouting. She sat on the limb of a large oak tree and observed the world around her. The air was cold, but no wind made the trees whisper to one another. She liked it when they did not whisper because she always feared that they were talking about her, or that they were planning to tell her mother where she was and what she was doing. The sun shone brightly through the trees making the ground glitter below her like thousands of emeralds. The birdsong almost hid Jeyne’s distant screams.   
While Daella was trying to whistle to join in with the birds, she spotted something moving below her. A man, with long dark hair sat on his horse, a big brown destrier. He looked around him before drawing out a map and looking at it. Daella crouched on a branch as she watched him trace his route with his finger. The sunlight danced on his horses rump, making it shine like Red Jeyne’s hair had. Once again, a simple distraction caused Daella to lose her footing. She fell forward from her perch but somehow managed to flip so that she landed on her back. She heard the horse scream and saw its blurry figure rear up above her. Daella curled up into a tight protective ball and began to shake again. Her whimpers were somewhat slurred this time but she remained conscious. Somewhere close, she heard a man’s voice. “Steady now boy, calm down.” He cooed. The horse immediately calmed and stepped away from the trembling child. Daella heard the man’s boots hit the dirt and she continued to shake as she heard him approach. “Please, don’t hit me!” She begged, recalling the last time she had fallen from a tree.  
“Hush now child, I’m not going to hurt you.” The man said, crouching beside her. He helped her to sit up. “Are you hurt?” He asked. Daella looked at him in wordless shock. “You look like my brother.” She muttered.  
“Is that so?” He gave a quiet chuckle. Daella smiled; this man was too nice to hurt her. “What’s your name girl?” He asked.  
“Daella.” She said.  
“And your last name?” Daella froze. She feared her last name; her brother seemed to hate it and her mother despised her for it. Snow filled her dreams. Daella began to whimper. “You don’t have to tell me girl, I won’t make you.” He said. Daella stopped whimpering and stared at him, confused. “I don’t have to?” She asked.  
“No, it does not matter to me. I wonder if you could help me Daella, you see, I’m looking for someone.” The man said, standing up and walking back over to his horse.   
“Who?” Daella asked, suddenly curious. She could be helpful for the nice man. “Ramsay Snow.” The man announced, leading his horse back over to her. Daella looked at him, shocked, her mouth opening and closing as she searched her scrambled brain for words to say.   
“How do you know my brother?” She asked, a little panicked. What did he want with Ramsay? “I don’t, but I want to. Because he is my brother too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well so much for writing on here more regularly! Seriously, I don't know where the days go! Anyway, please leave kudos and comment if you think it worthy :)


	3. Nervous Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daella chooses to bring Domeric back to her home, despite fearing her mother's wrath. Ramsay's day takes an unexpected turn.

If Daella had been confused before, she was even more so now. “Please, can you take me to him Daella?” The man asked. Daella chewed her lip, unsure of what to do. She looked back the way she had come. Ramsay would be ever so angry if she interrupted his hunt again which only left taking the man back to her house. But what would her mother say? Worse, what would her mother do? A scream interrupted her thoughts. The man began to move towards the sound, drawing his sword. “No don’t!” Daella cried, running after him. She cut him off and planted herself in front of him. “My home is this way!” She informed. The man looked torn; he wanted to follow her but he felt it was his duty to find the woman that was in distress. “Please Ser, there are lots of bad things in these woods. My brother should be at home and you can meet him there.” Daella lied. The man looked at her suspiciously. Daella shuffled from foot to foot nervously until the man let out a sigh and nodded. “Alright.” He said, giving a small smile. Daella exhaled with relief and began to lead the way through the forest.

Her luck continued; there were no more screams and they did not come across Ramsay hunting. Daella was almost relieved when she spied the mill through the trees. Her mother was feeding the chickens when Daella led the man up the path. The woman stopped immediately, wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over. When Daella saw her mother, she began to shake violently. She had returned home without her brother and with a stranger in his place. The look on her mother’s face and the speed with which she approached screamed that Daella was in deep trouble. Daella wanted nothing more than to turn and run. “Daella!” Her mother yelled. Daella froze with fear. Her mother slowed down, eyeing the man suspiciously. Quickly, and to the surprise of Daella, the miller’s wife scooped Daella up in her arms in what appeared to be a protective gesture. Though Daella feared the action so much she near soiled herself. “Daella, who’s this?” Her mother asked, never taking her eyes off of the man. Daella panicked when she realised she had not asked for the man’s name. “I…um…I don’t know his name.” She stuttered. She began to whimper as she felt her mother’s grip tighten, like how a viper would suffocate its prey. Her mother was holding back her anger. “You brought a stranger to our home? And where is your brother?” Her mother hissed through gritted teeth, turning to look at the trembling Daella. Ramsay was their way of protection. If this man wished to hurt them, there was little they could do to stop him. “He’s hunting.” Daella muttered. “And this man said he was Ramsay’s brother.” Daella blurted desperately. She felt her mother’s grip tighten further. The woman snapped her head around to look at the man. “I am sorry but I do not recall bearing _you_.” She spat. The man suddenly looked a great deal younger. He looked down at his feet. “Forgive me madam. I should have been clearer; I am Ramsay’s half-brother. My name is Domeric Bolton, son of…”  
“Son of Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort.” Her mother breathed. The man gave a small smile now that she no longer gave him a death stare. Daella could not read the expression on her mother’s face, but the tightness of her grip did not change. “Why is it you have come?” Her mother asked.  
“My father told me that I had a brother, a half-brother. I wish to know him.” Domeric informed. Daella bit down on her lip to stop herself from speaking; Ramsay was her brother, more than that, he was her protector. She did not wish for him to be taken away. “Please, do come in. My son should be with you shortly. I have some wine that you can drink whilst you wait.” Daella’s mother said, almost sweetly. “Daella, see to the man’s horse.” Her mother ordered. Daella looked at the beast. It seemed huge to her; one kick in the head and she’d be as dead as Red Jeyne was by now. But she did not wish to anger her mother. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the horse. Domeric hesitated, unsure if he wanted to put the girl in charge of such a large animal, but the look on her mother’s face told him she expected no argument, so he placed the reigns in the small child’s palm. She held them awkwardly in her small hand. “He is very gentle.” Domeric promised. Daella smiled at the reassurance. “Go!” Her mother hissed. Daella jumped a little and hurried towards a small shed that would do for a stable. Domeric watched the small girl go whilst her mother continued to watch him. “It is this way m’lord.” The woman gestured towards her small cottage and Domeric followed.

Ramsay walked cheerfully through the forest. The dead eyes of the fishes watched him as they swung from the butt of his spear; their eyes wide with silent horror. He had wanted to add Red Jeyne’s skin to them, but he had left his knife at home so he had hidden her body for now. _“What a hunt she had made; the unexpected ones were always the best.”_ Ramsay thought as his home came into view. A voice from a small shed made him stop. It was Daella’s voice, quiet and fearful. He had completely forgotten her! Why had she returned by herself? His mother must’ve been angry at that and shut her up in the shed. Again. His mother appeared to be nowhere in sight, so Ramsay hurried over to the shed. He was surprised to find it unlocked. “Stop it! Bring your head down, I can’t reach!” Daella was begging a large horse who was looking about nervously, jumping every time Daella made a fearful grab for the bridle. “Daella, what are you doing? And where did this horse come from?” He asked. “Mother told me to see to the man’s horse, but he’s so big and he keeps scaring me.” Daella whined.  
“Well get out of there and let me do it.” Ramsay ordered. Daella obliged all too willingly. “Go get a bucket of water, some hay and some oats.” Daella nodded and hurried off to complete her task. Ramsay undid the straps of the saddle and pulled it from the horses back. It was a well-bred animal; its coat held a healthy shine and its body was thick and well-muscled. It was a horse worthy of a Lord. That thought made Ramsay nearly drop the saddle. He span around when he heard the door open behind him, but it was only Daella struggling with the bucket of water. Ramsay threw the saddle to the side and strode towards her. Daella squealed in fear when he grabbed her and shook her roughly, making her spill the water down her clothes. “Who has come? Whose horse is this?” Ramsay asked, digging his fingers into Daella’s arms.  
“You’re hurting me!” The girl cried. Ramsay shook her again so hard that she began to cry. “Tell me!” He ordered.  
“He said his name was Domeric Bolton. He said he was your brother.” Daella sobbed, clamping her eyes shut. Ramsay let her go. “I didn’t know I had a brother.” He said quietly, a little disappointed that it had not been his father that had come to see him. Daella looked into the bucket and discovered that only half of the amount of water remained in the bucket, the rest was mostly dispensed down her tunic and trousers. She stared sadly at the bucket. “Go and get the hay and oats, I’ll see to the water.” Ramsay said. Daella just nodded and walked away with her head down. Ramsay picked the saddle back up and slung it over the door and took the bridle off of the horses head. He stared deep into the horses eyes. “Why couldn’t you have been my father’s mount, bringing him to meet me?” Ramsay asked. When he received no reply, only a gentle gaze, a sudden rage blew up in him. He struck the horse with a sudden violence that it threw itself against the back wall, trembling and rolling its eyes. He smiled as he spotted the fear. He began to approach the panicking horse, sending it into a further frenzy. “Ramsay? Ramsay!” Daella’s voice seemed to come from far away but Ramsay finally came out of his rage when she tugged at his sleeve. “What?!” He snapped. Daella leapt back. “I…I, um…I couldn’t carry the bucket of oats.” She confessed, dumping the bundle of hay on the floor in front of the horse that still fretted in Ramsay’s presence. “Fucking useless you are.” Ramsay growled, picking up the half empty water bucket.  
“I know. I’m sorry. I tried today though! Did you see me? Earlier, with Red Jeyne, I tried to help you.” She said, almost proudly. Ramsay smiled at the thought of Red Jeyne. “Yes, you did well.” He confessed. 

Once the horse was taken care of, brother and sister headed towards the small cottage. Ramsay paused before entering with a sudden urge to smarten himself up a little. He smoothed out his clothes, picked out twigs and dirt from his hair and clothing and washed his face when Daella pointed out that he had blood spattered over it. Daella herself was still soaked from where Ramsay had caused her to spill the water bucket but he paid her appearance no mind. He took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. His mother sat at the table facing him, whilst the visitor sat facing her with his back to Ramsay. The man turned at the sound of Ramsay’s entry. The man seemed out of place in the shabby barn that served as their house. He wore a doublet of fine quality leather, a thick fur cloak held in place by a clasp in the shape of the flayed man of House Bolton. Ramsay bit back his jealousy. Why had he never been garbed in such fine clothing?   
“Daella, what on earth have you been doing?” His mother’s voice shook him from his thoughts.  
“She spilled a bucket of water mother, that is all. I shall help her change.” Ramsay started for the stairs, dragging Daella behind him.  
“You will do no such thing! You must stay here with our guest. My son, this is Domeric, your half-brother.” His mother introduced. Domeric shot a quick look at her. It had not been her that he’d wanted to make introductions. The two men looked at each other a little awkwardly; unsure of what to say to one another.   
“We shall leave you both. Daella, come.” Her mother ordered. Daella found she could not move. She did not wish to go with her mother. “Daella, now!” Her mother’s voice rang warning bells but still the girl would not move, paralysed with fear.   
“Do as mother commands Daella.” Ramsay instructed, giving the girl a quick shove to get her to move. Daella followed her mother, whimpering and shaking as she went. Ramsay never stopped watching Domeric. “Should we walk outside? We have much to discuss…brother.” Domeric said the final word somewhat nervously.  
“Of course. Brother.” Ramsay replied with a smile before leading the way out into the sunlight, leaving the dingy and dank barn behind.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think of the story so far in the comments!


	4. A Delightful Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay learns the reason for why Domeric has come to seek him out. Daella pays a heavy price for a moments weakness.

The fact that her mother did nothing until the men could no longer be heard downstairs terrified Daella further. It made sense that her mother would wait until their guest had gone before punishing her daughter for bringing him to their home. But, much to Daella’s surprise, her mother helped her change into a second pair of clothes. They were her finer clothes, but that was to be expected with such an important guest around. Daella trembled as she slipped her arms through the jerkin. She had been dressed in boy’s clothes since they could not afford to buy the material to dress her. Had she been more intuitive, she might have noticed that all of Ramsay’s clothes were made of thicker fabric, and all of his breeches were replaced with new ones if the old ones wore through. Alas, Daella was not one to pick up on such things. Her mother dressed her in clothes that Ramsay had worn when he was younger; if they wore through, they would be patched up. But if Daella ever ripped them on her adventures, they would be sewn up and Daella would receive a beating for ruining them. Those same fingers that clasped the belt were now deftly lacing up the jerkin. There was something about her mother’s fingers that made Daella’s skin crawl; they seemed so weak and thin, harmless really. Yet they could cause unimaginable pain. They weren’t doing so now. “Turn.” Her mother commanded. Daella scanned her mother’s spidery hands quickly, to check that she wielded nothing that she could hit her with. The woman’s hands were empty. Daella turned around; her heart hammered against her rib cage. But her mother only combed her fingers through her long mousy hair. “I had hair like this when I was younger, though I didn’t have so many knots and twigs in it.” Her mother almost laughed.  
“Sorry mother, I will try to keep it less knotty.” Daella promised, fearing her mother’s kindness.   
“No, I like combing through your hair. It will be just you and me soon. Just us girls together. You have the looks I had when I was younger, though you have your father’s eyes. Why do bastards always have their father’s eyes?” The question was not for her, but the word bastard put her on edge. She tried to change the subject. “Ramsay won’t leave us will he? Because Lord Bolton has his other son. He won’t want Ramsay. So Ramsay will stay here with us won’t he?” Daella asked desperately. Her mother was slightly shocked about how much her daughter knew about such things. She sat down on the small bed and patted her knee, indicating that Daella was to come and sit on it. She did. Her mother held her with an unusual gentleness and Daella relaxed a little, and even went so far as to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder. “My little girl.” Her mother rocked her gently. “Things can change in the blink of an eye. Ramsay will become Lord of the Dreadfort. He _will_ get what is rightfully his.” Her mother said, her tone determined. Daella knew better than to argue with that tone. Her mother moved suddenly, so much so that Daella nearly fell onto the floor. The fear was back in the blink of an eye. Her mother grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. “Daella, listen very closely. I need you to do something. Go and kill a chicken.” Her mother ordered. Daella frowned, confused. “But mother, you always say that we can’t eat the chickens.” She protested.  
“No. _We_ can’t. Chickens are fit for a Lord.” Her mother said.  
“Or a Lord’s son.” Daella smiled the unusual smile she had used earlier on that day. Her mother paused fleetingly. She had never seen that smile before. “Go!” She urged, suddenly haunted by it. Daella did as she was bid.

They walked through the woods and down to the river in silence. Complete silence. Ramsay picked at the leaves as he walked past them and tore them into shreds. His brother did no such thing. He walked as though he were trained to do so; like a little dog. His strides were more like one of a march than a casual stroll. His arms did not swing freely at his sides but were hand clasped behind his back. Which one would break the silence first? _“He should do it. He came here for me, what does he want?”_ Ramsay thought. Though a few minutes later, he lost patience. “I trust my mother was kind enough to you in my absence.” He said, politely enough.  
“Yes, she was.” Domeric admitted dutifully. _“Give me something to work with you tight-lipped cunt.”_ Ramsay thought as he kicked a stone. “I suppose you are wondering why I am hear?” Domeric asked.  
Ramsay wasn’t sure what to say now. “Something like that.” He managed.  
“I recently returned from the Vale of Arryn, where I was a squire for Lord Redfort.” He began. _“Like I’d know who the fuck that was.”_ Ramsay thought angrily. “I made good friends with his sons, they became like brothers when I was there. We spent three years in the Vale together.” Domeric continued. _“Is he just here to taunt me? Has my father sent him as some cruel trick?”_ Ramsay could barely control his rage. “Where do I come into this?” He asked angrily, grinding his teeth together to keep his voice down.  
“Forgive me if I have offended you…it…it was not my intention.” The boy seemed genuinely sorry. Ramsay was not familiar with it; besides his mother and his sister, he rarely interacted with people. The only emotions he learnt about from his prey were fear, his sister was a simpleton and his mother was as sour as an unripe blackberry. When Domeric realised he wasn’t going to get a reply, he carried on. “My point is that, they were like brothers to me. But now I have returned home and I have left them behind. Then my father told me that he had another son. That I had a half-brother. You.” Domeric did not look at him. Ramsay began to feel uncomfortable. This guy just wanted him to be a brother? Was he soft? Why was he so fucking sentimental? “So what do you want from me?” Ramsay asked bluntly, after all, what was the point in him expressing emotions he did not have.  
“I was wondering if you would return home with me, to the Dreadfort. To be my brother, to stand by my side. I understand what it must be like; all these years and our father has not sought you out. And here I am now, out of the blue and asking you to be my brother. It must be strange for you, but my intentions are as true as my words.” Domeric was sincere when he spoke his speech. _“Seriously father? You preferred this sap?”_ Ramsay thought, amused now. Though the opportunity to return with Domeric was appealing. There would be benefits to being the brother of a Lord. Perhaps he could teach Domeric a few of his ways. The boy and he shared blood and perhaps his brother was yet to find his Bolton blood. “When do you imagine that I would return with you?” Ramsay asked.  
“Well I should return home this evening with your answer. I could come back in a few days for you?” Domeric suggested.  
“Yes, that would be good. It would give me time to…sort things out.” Ramsay thought of saying goodbye to his mother and sister and was not sure how he felt about it. Would he even miss them? “Yes of course. You would want to say goodbye to your family.” Domeric thought he understood.  
“I suppose you have met my sister?” Ramsay asked.  
“It was she that brought me to your home. She is a strange little thing, if you don’t mind me saying. I was lost in the thick of the woods when she fell from a tree right in front of me.” Domeric laughed a little at the memory.  
“She is always falling from those damned trees. I tell her not to climb them, but she never listens.” Ramsay laughed too.  
“She will miss you when you leave, I am sure.” Domeric said.  
“Yes, she will.” Ramsay’s head was suddenly filled with thoughts of how Daella would fare without him there. How would she handle mother without him? “Do you have any sister’s?” Ramsay asked Domeric.  
“No. There is only me. All of my brothers and sisters died still in the cradle.” He said somewhat sadly.  
“I am sorry.” Ramsay felt obliged to say. Domeric smiled weakly. “We should turn back. I must be home before dark. My father would not spare me a guard, it would not be wise to ride alone.” Domeric said looking up into the darkening sky. Ramsay was still caught on his words. _“Would not spare a guard?”_ Now that he came to think of it, Domeric had not said that his father consented to him coming. Did his father not want him to return to the Dreadfort alongside his brother?

It was the fastest Daella had been able to catch one of the few chickens they had. Killing it wasn’t a problem either; you simply twisted the head until you heard the fatal crack, and the chicken would go limp. Daella hurried back to the house. Her mother was in the kitchen, putting herbs and spices onto the fish which she had found hanging from the top of Ramsay’s spear. “Bring that over hear.” Her mother ordered once she spied Daella beside her. Daella did as she was told. “Now, go to that cupboard and find the small bottle with the pale liquid in it.” Her mother said, indicating to the small cupboard in the far corner of the room. Daella had never opened that cupboard before; truth be told she had rarely set eyes on it, nor wondered what lay within. When she opened it now, she found a great many small bottles of various colours within. She picked up the one her mother had requested and took it back to her. Her mother was finishing preparing the food, putting each internal organ into a large jar for some unknown future use. “Very good.” Her mother praised, holding the bottle up to the light and peering through it, her arms were stained red with blood up to her elbows. “I have built a cook fire, go and spit roast the chicken.” She commanded. Daella had always hated being the spit-girl. She usually grew tired of sitting around for hours, turning the chicken, and would daydream, causing her to burn the meat. The few times that she had managed to remember to turn the chicken, she usually ended up burning herself. But today, her mother’s determination had fuelled her to do exactly what she was told with no objection. Daella couldn’t help but feel that she was part of some bigger plot. She quite liked that thought; that they were working together to achieve a goal. So she set to work beside the fire; turning the chicken and frying the fish.  
When they were cooked, her mother came and carved some of the chicken onto a plate. “Now, pour a few drops of that liquid onto the meat. Wait! Wait for it to sink in before applying the next drop. That’s it.” Her mother watched with a proud gleam in her eyes. “Go and put it on the table, I’ll see to the fish.” Daella carried the plate over to the table and set it down at the head of it. “Mother, what was it that we put on the chicken?” She asked, placing what cutlery they had on the table along with a chunk of bread and some wine for them all to share.   
“Did I give you permission to ask a question Daella?” Her mother’s tone made her tremble. The fear returned and she began to feel small and powerless. Moments ago, she had felt her mother’s equal, now she shivered in her shadow.

“Will you come and take some wine before you go brother?” Ramsay asked Domeric. He could smell meat being cooked from the house. Domeric looked longingly at the stables, knowing that he should begin riding as soon as he could. But he felt obliged to accept the invitation. When they entered the small house, they found the table set for four. “Madam, I am afraid I cannot stay for dinner. I must be heading back…” Domeric began to protest but was cut off.  
“No! I mean…my lord…you must stay! Stay the night. It is too dark for you to ride back now and the woods are full of bandits. Please, Daella cooked you chicken, we had no fish to spare.” The woman sounded desperate. Ramsay eyed his mother; she was not usually one to beg. Daella stared down at her plate. Ramsay was a little relieved to find her unharmed. Domeric, once again, felt obliged to take the invite; his brother’s family had so little yet here he was refusing their hospitality. “Very well. I thank you for your hospitality.” He said. The woman sighed with relief. They sat down and began to eat; simple though their meals were. There was a slightly unusual taste to the chicken but Domeric disregarded it. These people had little to feed themselves; no doubt the animals were under fed and sickly too. “I take it you two spoke at lengths?” The woman asked, watching Domeric curiously.  
“Yes mother. Domeric has come to ask if I would return with him to the Dreadfort; as his brother…”   
“Well you must, my son!” Ramsay’s mother cut in.  
“I have agreed to it, yes.” Said Ramsay.  
“No!” The three heads snapped round at the sound of Daella’s voice. The girl leapt down so that she was beside Domeric. She clung to his arm, tugging and wailing. “Please Ser, please! Don’t take my brother away! I need him here please!” The girl clung to Domeric, weeping into the fabric of his sleeve. She began to shake and writhe on the floor in uncontrollable panic. Domeric looked about in despair; his eyes pleading for someone to help. Ramsay made to get up, but his mother was faster. “Enough of that child! You dare to show such insolence in the presence of a Lord’s son?” The woman dragged Daella off of Domeric by the hair with sudden rage. She dragged her to one of the beams that supported the upper floor. Ramsay had seen his sister tied to it multiple times; he had been strapped to it himself a few times in his youth. He had never witnessed it as terrible as this though. Daella continued to convulse on the floor in some sort of spasm. She trembled and shook uncontrollably, her eyes rolled so you could see only white. Yet his mother dragged her to a standing position and tied her to the beam. “Mother please, can this not wait?” Ramsay tried to protest, yet his mother was beyond hearing. Ramsay was almost ashamed when, in front of his brother’s eyes, his mother stripped Daella of her breeches and removed the belt from the hook. Usually she would count but she seemed beyond control this time. Daella clung to the beam; she screamed and clawed at the wood until her hands were as bloodied as her legs. When her hands were so blistered and torn that she could no longer use them, Daella began to chew at the wood, bloodying her mouth in the process. Ramsay chanced a glance at Domeric who did not seem sure where to look, but had stopped eating. Ramsay looked back at his mother who was screaming undistinguishable words as she lashed at her young daughters legs.  
When Ramsay had lost count of how many lashes his sister had endured, he decided enough was enough. He stood from the table and did what he would not normally dare to do. Tearing the belt from his mother’s hand, he slung her over his shoulder and carried her, kicking and screaming, outside into the night.

Daella could not scream anymore. She didn’t think she had a voice left. She remained tied to the beam; her bloodied legs stung, but the way she was tied prevented her from collapsing. Eventually, her dazed eyes found Domeric’s shocked stare. Suddenly aware of how vulnerable and weak she was, bound up, bleeding and bare legged, she began to cry softly. Hesitantly, Domeric stood up, though Daella barely noticed. He moved towards her and she stared at him, though her eyes did not see him. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I’m sorry.” She continued to repeat the words as Domeric unbound her. Part of him knew that he should not meddle in other people’s affairs, but he was to be a Lord one day. He had to protect his people. Once every rope was untied, Daella collapsed onto the dirt floor before Domeric could try and support her. Being careful not to hold her legs too firmly in fear of hurting her, Domeric carried her up the stairs onto what he hoped was her bed. Daella continued her incoherent mutterings while they moved. Domeric put her down onto the bed, unsure what to do next. He thought he should go find Ramsay, but that would mean coming face to face with their mother.

He carried his mother all the way to the water trough that stood at the edge of the forest. He set her down, she was still crazed; clawing and screaming at him. Taking her by the back of the head, he plunged her headfirst into the water trough and held her head beneath the surface for a few moments. When she resurfaced, she was gasping for air, but she no longer seem crazed. Ramsay sat on the edge of the trough and waited for her to come to her senses. To his surprise his mother, always so hard and icy, broke into tears. “I am sorry my son, I do not know what I was thinking.” She spluttered, burying her face in her hands.  
“It is not I that you should be apologising too.” Ramsay said darkly.  
“Of course, I should go and apologise to your brother.” She began to walk away.  
“Not him mother.” Ramsay called, remaining by the trough. Slowly, she turned around. “It is Daella who needs your apology.” He said.  
“I know that I lost my control tonight, but the child was rude. She needed to be punished.” Her icy composure returned.  
“Yes, she always needs to be punished.” Ramsay growled. His mother paused before returning to him. She knelt before him, took his hand and kissed it. “The Gods blessed me with a son, a son who was born to be a Lord. Yet they cursed me with a daughter, a simpleton who fails to do any task easily, who has no strength that is her own.” Ramsay snatched his hand away.  
“No, you hate her because of what her father did to you. I remember, I was there. And you had me hunt him down after he abandoned you.” He growled.  
“And you did so because the love you bear your mother.” She recalled smiling.  
“No. I did so because he abandoned his daughter. And I know what it feels like to have no father.” Ramsay allowed no emotion to creep into his words. His mother stood up sharply. “That is not my fault. None of it is. And I will not apologise for the wrongs done by others.” Ramsay watched her as she stormed away.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's so long. Please comment on what you think :)


	5. Stronger Than Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay is brought some news that benefits hims and delights his mother. Ramsay gives a gift to Daella and she puts it to good use.

Ramsay was almost shocked to learn that when he woke, it was daylight. Daella had not woken screaming halfway through the night. He sat up from his makeshift bed on the floor and looked around. Daella still lay, dead to the world, on the bed. Domeric was sleeping a few feet away from him. Despite Ramsay’s protests, Domeric had insisted that Daella sleep on the bed. She had been asleep when Ramsay had returned anyway. Ramsay stood up and moved to kneel beside Daella, shaking her gently to wake her up. Slowly, she opened her eyes. “What is it?” She asked. There was a strange emptiness to her voice. She did not sit up. “It is the morning little sister.” Ramsay pointed out. Daella looked towards the window, seemingly uninterested by the sun that streamed through the wooden bars. “Get dressed, then feed and water Domeric’s horse.” He ordered gently. Daella sat up, gasping as she examined the bruises and cuts on her legs. “They’ll heal.” Ramsay reassured.  
“I know.” She spat back. Ramsay frowned. “What was that?” He asked, his voice low and threatening.  
“I know they’ll heal. They always do.” Without another word, and before Ramsay could grab her, she stood up and pulled on an old pair of breeches. Ramsay barely heard her as she padded down the wooden stairs.

Daella tried to move as quietly as possible down the stairs. Relief flooded into her when she hit the floor without so much as a squeak. She looked around to seek out her mother. There. The woman sat at the table, her head resting on her arms. Daella padded silently towards her and watched as her shoulders rose and fell. The table had not been cleared from the night before. A knife lay within reach. _“I could do it. I could cut open her throat. It would seem like nothing after all she has done. I would watch her crash to the floor, in a pool of her own blood. She would panic like I did. She would shake uncontrollably like I did. I could beat her with the belt if I wanted to, until she would finally drown in her own blood. I could end it all.”_ Daella did not know where the thought came from. She had never experienced it before. But she was so tempted…  
Then her mother stirred in her sleep.  
Daella fled from her house towards the shed where the horse waited for her, half expecting to hear angry shouts from her mother behind her, like those that had once haunted her dreams. She ran so fast that she was out of breath by the time she slammed the door shut behind her. The horse looked up in alarm, then whinnied nervously, asking for food.

“I thank you for your hospitality.” Domeric said to the woman, not looking her in the eye. He then turned to his brother. “I will returned to you once matters are settled at home.” He said. _“Whatever the fuck that means.”_ Thought Ramsay. Domeric said nothing to Daella, who held his horse for him. She did not look him in the eye. “I wish you a safe journey, m’lord.” She muttered, though the words sounded empty. Domeric nodded and smiled in reply before swinging into the saddle. They watched as he rode away. “Come, there is work to be done.” Their mother said, turning and going back into the house. Ramsay and Daella did not move for a moment, continuing to look into the trees where Domeric had disappeared from view. “He won’t be coming back.” Daella muttered.   
“He will. He wants a brother and he has found one.” Ramsay’s tone was determined.  
“He won’t.” Daella looked over her shoulder towards the door her mother had walked through, then she gave Ramsay a meaningful look. He frowned at her but she ignored him. “I will go and clean out the shed. You have a body to flay.” She reminded him. He smiled at the thought of Red Jeyne, still tucked away beneath a bush.

Days passed by and those days turned into weeks. Ramsay grew angry and then he became furious. Domeric had clearly been some kind of spy or a cruel trick thought up by his father. Ramsay had begun to think he could trust Domeric, he couldn’t say he’d liked him because they were too dissimilar, but he had thought he could bear to live with him. Now that seemed it would not be the case. His mother did not seem overly concerned. “I am sure he will return soon.” She would say. Daella he barely saw. Usually the girl was always by his side unless he told her otherwise; she was like his little pet. But now the girl would simply do her work and disappear into the trees. His mother did not stop punishing her after the night that Domeric had stayed. The whippings and humiliation continued if Daella ever did something to her mother’s disliking. But Daella was different somehow. When she was bound to the wood, Ramsay had observed that she would stare into nothing. She made no sound but the look on her face was dark; plotting. Ramsay didn’t like it. He had taken a stick to her one day for it when his rage had gotten too much. She had made no sound, not even a whimper. And she continued to look as though she were plotting. He was observing her one day while she was up in a tree; a tree that bore no leaves to hide her. She balanced perfectly, leaping from limb to limb. She no longer fell. All her focus went on where she was putting her feet. He was about to call out to her, to see if she would fall if she lost concentration (he was bored and in a terrible mood) when he noticed something moving through the trees. Ramsay stood up and squinted to try and make it out. It was definitely a horse and a rider. And they were coming this way. “Mother!” Ramsay shouted and began to walk towards the man that emerged from the trees.

Daella stopped leaping from branch to branch when she heard Ramsay shout out. She crouched down and watched as Ramsay approached the rider. It was not Domeric, she could see that from where she was perched, but he did bear the sigil of House Bolton. The stranger passed a roll of parchment down to Ramsay before riding back into the forest. Daella slowly made her way down onto the ground, curious as to what was happening. By the time she reached Ramsay, their mother was already by his side. Ramsay read the letter, he was the only one who could. Their mother had made sure he’d learnt when he was younger; a Lord had to know how to read and write. Daella didn’t know how to read words on a page, but she did know how to read faces. Ramsay looked somewhat confused. “What is it my son?” Their mother asked. Ramsay read through the letter again. “My br…Domeric…he’s dead.” Ramsay spluttered. Their mother did not falter. “Anything else?” She asked in earnest.  
“I am to go to the Dreadfort.” Ramsay finished, smiling slightly. “Father signed it.” Daella watched Ramsay run his finger over what must have been Lord Bolton’s signature.  
“Of course he did. You must go as soon as possible. I shall go and begin packing up your things, only the best though. You are to be a Lord now.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “I knew this day would come.” Daella heard the whisper and kicked at the dirt. Ramsay read through the letter once more whilst their mother hurried away. “Am I to call you m’lord now?” Daella asked sourly.   
“No, you are still my sister.” Ramsay replied.  
“You are going to be a Bolton now. Not a Snow.” Daella mumbled angrily. Ramsay watched her. He didn’t understand this sudden anger that his sister showed but he recognised it. Related to it. Though he had developed it at a much younger age. “Walk with me?” Ramsay asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

Ramsay led the way and found the bow and arrow that he kept stashed beneath a rotten log. His mother preferred not to be reminded of his hunting trips and he always worried that she would break his bow and arrow in one of her tempers. “What are you doing with that?” Daella asked him. “We aren’t going hunting are we?”  
“No.” Ramsay replied bluntly before heading deeper into the woods, only stopping when he decided they would not be found. “Hold this.” He ordered Daella, shoving the bow and arrow into her hands. He walked over to a tree a little distance away and removed the dirk from his belt. Quickly, he carved a rough figure of a human into the bark. “What are you doing?” Daella called as he finished.  
“Making a target.” Ramsay replied.  
“Why?” She snorted.  
“Because I am leaving, and you need to know how to defend yourself if danger comes.” He said, positioning the bow in her hands.

It seemed to take forever before Daella was able to hit the target frequently. Her arms ached, her hands were blistered and it felt as though she had pulled every single muscle in her back and shoulders. Yet the pain was diluted by the pride she felt. She could defend herself now. She felt untouchable. The fact that Ramsay had little patience made it almost easier to be taught by him. She had to learn quickly. And that made her focus on the target. She had hit the tree-person in the heart a few times. “A killing strike.” Ramsay would say. On their way back they had come across a herd of elk and, somehow, Daella had managed to bring one down. “You won’t tell mother will you? She won’t like me learning to use a bow and arrow.” Daella sounded more angry than worried.  
“She might be grateful if it comes down to you having to defend her.” Ramsay pointed out.  
“All the same, don’t tell her. She’d only hit me.” Daella kicked a stone angrily.  
“As you wish.” Ramsay said. They hid the bow and arrow back in its place. “Do you think you’ll be able to find it again?” Ramsay asked.  
“Aren’t you going to take it with you?” Daella asked, confused.  
“No. It’s yours now.” Ramsay gave her a wicked smile and she returned it.  
“My own weapon?” Glee shone in her eyes.  
“Yes. To do with as you choose.”

The morning after, Daella watched as Ramsay walked down the path and into the trees for the final time. A part of her broke off and went with him but she didn’t cry. She found that tears refused to come. The chances of her seeing him again were small. The moment Ramsay was out of sight, her mother went back into the house without a word to Daella. Not that she minded. No doubt the words she would say to her would be unkind; ever since the night that Domeric had stayed, her mother had barely said a word to her, the words that she did say were always vicious. Those next few days, Daella began to work outside, doing all of the jobs that had been entrusted to Ramsay; feeding the pigs and the chickens, checking for eggs and filling up water troughs. She cleaned what needed to be cleaned and swept out the small barn, she even chopped as much wood as she was able and stored it away. Once she believed all her jobs were done, she returned to her tree and began to climb the sparse branches. That was how it went most mornings. One day however, her mother’s voice rang out across the yard. “Daella!” Her mother called. Pausing, only for a moment, Daella climbed down from the tree. What did she want? Daella had done all she usually did that morning. Her mother appeared in the doorway to the house; annoyance plain on her face. Fear no longer filled Daella. Something had changed in her since the night of the beating. She just didn’t seem to care. Instead of fearing her mother or collapsing into a fit when she was frightened, she would grow angry. Anger stirred within her now. She never let it out though, it boiled up inside her, today though, it threatened to boil over. “What is it mother?” She yelled in reply as she walked across the yard.  
“I thought I’d asked you to help me clean the house.” Her mother growled. _“You asked no such thing, and you know it.”_ Daella thought, the anger swelling. “Why? Are you expecting another visitor?” Daella asked, her voice edged with sarcasm. Her mother looked a little shocked by it. “Never mind,” Daella continued. “If they aren’t happy with the state of the house, you can always poison them like you did the last guest we had.” Daella smiled mockingly.  
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her mother growled.  
“I think you do.” Daella growled back. She saw the familiar temper flare up in her mother; the one that went beyond control.  
“I hope you aren’t accusing me of poisoning Domeric Daella. You know what will happen if you are.” She threatened.  
“Oh no, of course not mother. You just got me to do it for you. You are too much of a coward to do your own dirty work.” Daella smiled cruelly as her mother began to tremble with rage.  
“I’m going to belt you within an inch of your life you little bitch!” Her mother screamed. Daella sprang into a run, not slowing even when she was into the woods; the hard ground sent shockwaves up her legs. She had been here before. So many times before. Only now, she didn’t have Ramsay to advise her on what to do. “I’ll punish you for this bastard! I will belt you until you scream for mercy!” Her mother screamed again. She didn’t beg like she used to. She just ran. _“Don’t look back Daella, run! Find a tree, you can climb it, you can escape!”_ Ramsay’s words rang in her head, as though from some distant memory. The trees didn’t run from her like they had before, but she didn’t climb them. _“No, I have to find_ the _tree.”_ She thought. “I’ll belt you ‘til you bleed bastard!” Her mother screeched again. That word. Bastard. That lit a fire in her. The anger had heated within her and that word was the fuel. She sped up slightly, putting more distance between herself and her mother. _“You need to know how to defend yourself when danger comes.”_ Ramsay’s words echoed in her mind. Danger was coming for her now. It had come for her so many times before and she had always coward before it and allowed it to harm her. Now though, she had a weapon.

When she reached the rotten log, her mother was no longer in sight, but she could hear her as she crashed through the undergrowth. Without a second thought, Daella dug out the bow and arrows and readied herself, positioning her body the way Ramsay had shown her. The moment her mother came into view, she put the arrow in place and pulled back the string. Her mother stopped. “What are you going to do? Kill me? Kill your own mother?” She asked.  
“I’m going to make you suffer first.” Daella replied through clenched teeth.  
“You don’t have it in you Daella. We both know it.” The woman spat. Daella drew the string back a little further. She relished the look of shock and terror on her mother’s face. “I do have it in me. I’ve had it in me for all those years that you beat me, humiliated me, threatened me. You terrified me. I grew up thinking that I was useless, that I was stupid, a fool, a simpleton. That it was all my fault that I was a bastard. I realise now that none of it was my fault. None of it. It was never my fault. It was yours. You were a whore that couldn’t keep her legs shut, one sweet word from a man was enough to pry them open, that’s how my father got you pregnant. You were just too easy. You were too weak.” Daella didn’t recognise her voice anymore, she was so filled with anger that it spoke for her.  
“Don’t call me a whore you little bitch!” Her mother began to run towards her. Daella released the arrow. It landed in front of the woman, stopping her in her tracks. “You missed.” Her mother leered.  
“No mother.” Daella leered back. “I told you I was going to make you suffer first. Now, if I were you,” Daella readied another arrow. “I’d start running.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter title is rubbish but I could not think of another one. So Daella goes through a major character development in this one. I wanted to keep this story to just five chapters so it obviously had to go just into this one chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are on the ending :)

**Author's Note:**

> Ramsay will show some more sadistic tendencies, I promise! This is just a short story about Ramsay's life before he went to the Dreadfort. I know the character Daella is probably a bit random, but I just wanted to show a more cruel side to the Miller's wife. I have no doubt that her circumstances left her a cold and bitter woman, but I just couldn't see her taking that anger out on Ramsay.


End file.
